


lovey dovey

by moroodors



Series: stanuary 2020 [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fighting, Fluff, Gen, Language, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Some angst, Stanuary, Stanuary 2020, mostly just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moroodors/pseuds/moroodors
Summary: stan still remembered how to fight, despite everything.written for stanuary 2020. week four: fight
Relationships: Stanley Pines & Stanford Pines
Series: stanuary 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572886
Comments: 7
Kudos: 70
Collections: Stanuary





	lovey dovey

**Author's Note:**

> "don't you ever fear, i'm always near. i know that you need help"  
> buddy holly, weezer
> 
> warnings: language, fighting
> 
> something a little shorter to finish out stanuary (man, the last one really tired my brain out)  
> i hope you like it!

Stan still remembered how to fight, despite everything. 

The itch that went beneath skin to lean into the twitch of his fingers, just grab the bat or the brass knuckles or the gun in the drawer or anything. An instinct that carried over from ancestors long before and was sharpened with ten years on an unforgiving road. Something that has attached itself to his DNA, coming just as much of a part of him as his big nose or grey hair. 

Despite getting called “caring” or “soft-hearted” when he was younger. Despite twin faces of his niblings smiling up at him. Despite settling down in a town for thirty years. Despite a twin brother wrapping his arms around him in a hug forty years overdue. Despite getting all his memories erased. That feeling remained.

Despite everything, Stan still remembered how to fight. 

In spite of everything, Stan still remembered how to fight. 

Fate would always be his biggest contender, thrashing under his grip as he melded it to his liking. Always being called the dumb twin, the unwanted twin. Well, he fixed the portal, without even having a high school degree. (Too bad he couldn’t tell anyone about it.) 

He thought that with ten years on the run filled with a constant fight for his life versus various opponents ranging from Rico to Nature to Jimmy Snakes to Himself, that he’d get over the high that comes with a good fight. He’d get over the adrenaline that would replace his blood, the feeling of his fist against skin, the way his heartbeat and breathing would overcome his ears and become the only thing he hears, the smile unlike any other knowing that he won, bested another person trying to knock Stanley Pines down. But nope. Every new time still feels like the first time. 

He can remember the first time he fought someone, despite everything. (Huh, ‘despite everything’ seemed to be his saying lately.) It was early middle school, with the same bullies that have been chasing them since elementary school. It started with wandering the halls after school, looking for Ford and finding him worse than he ever dared to imagine. 

Alerted only by a muffled crying from a locker, Stan had had to use his lock picking skills to pop the lock off, the little door swinging open to reveal a smaller Ford inside, holding a broken finger close to his chest, the parts of his eyes that weren’t black, red from crying. 

“ _ Lee… _ ” Had been all that Ford has said, voice wavering up and down, thick with tears. That was all that Stan needed to explode afterwards, going to Crampelter’s  _ house _ and smiling up all cute and nice at his parents, saying that he wanted to hang out with his friend real quick right before he had to do his homework. He can still see Crampelter’s face of confusion clearly, turning to yelp when Stan grabbed his ear as soon as his front door was closed. 

Stan had thrown him to the ground in the alleyway next to his house, and let all hell loose. That had been the first time he understood the saying “seeing red.” He remembers the crack of bone underneath his fists, something between satisfaction at the sound and amazement that he could even do it. 

At the end, Stan had grabbed that piece of shit by the shirt and held him close to his face, sneering “ _ Do that to Ford again and I’ll fucking kill you _ .” before letting his head drop, crossing his arms above him and finishing with a “Now go tell your parents that you got beat up by a kid half your size.” 

Ford’s bullying never got to that point again.

Immediately, fighting gained a positive association in his mind. Fighting means results. Something changes. 

His Pa had signed him and Ford up for boxing after that. Ford didn’t get it. Meanwhile, it felt like Stan had began breathing air for the first time in his life. Didn’t know something was missing his entire life before he gained it back. Something to let out his frustrations, to satisfy that primal hunger he had deep within him, to put his limited skills to good use.  _ Something he was good at _ . 

Like anything, however, at the other end of the spectrum, fighting really sucked. 

The kind that consisted of no (or limited) hands reared back in a punch. No bloody knuckles or missing teeth. No feeling of accomplishment afterwards. Just emotions running high and clouding vision. Voices so loud that they scratched against the sides of his throat as they came out, running their grubby little hands on every nook, cranny, tear, or regret they could find. 

The lines between “win” and “loss” were always murkier (like how it was on the road. Where a win just meant a different person on his back and losing could mean his life.) These kinds of fights required a certain level of belief in himself that was hard to come by. Because that’s what it came down to, right? Belief in himself and what he thought was right enough that he could fight for it.

Stan always had the worst of those fights with Ford. 

As kids, it was always debates about what ice cream shop they should go to today. Whether they should go work on the boat or go home and read. When they got a little older, that transformed into if they should go together or not. Whether they should go to college or work on the boat (if Stan broke Ford’s project or not.) And Stan knew it was his Ford that came through the portal because he still could yell at Stan just like they were teenagers again. 

Maybe Ford was the  _ who  _ Stan was fighting a majority of the time. But he was the  _ why _ even more often. Why he’s got to fight the bullies again today. Why he’s got to fight his own self doubts to fix the portal. Why he’s got to fight a demon. For his brother. 

The same brother that cast him away. Branded his back. Butted heads with him at every possible chance.

Shared a womb with him. Taught him when no one else would. Remained his best friend, despite everything. Loved him. Loves him. 

(Sibling relationships were weird.) 

Through his many years on earth, he’s heard stories of people at constant war with their siblings, unworkable together, choosing not to see them for years and years on end. Stan couldn’t relate to them. He’s also heard stories of people getting along great with them, seeing them everyday, and praising the ground they walk. Stan couldn’t relate to them either. 

Yes, they fought. But, Stan was able to see his brother by his side on the boat of their dreams and realize that maybe, just maybe, his fighting days were over.    
  


(Until, Ford decides that he  _ needs _ to do another upgrade on the toaster and it  _ most definitely  _ won’t catch on fire this time. Or, there’s some creature they've never seen before that just won’t get off their backs. But that’s a problem for another day.)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> and, i wanted to say how fun it was participating in stanuary! this was my first time doing so and it was very fun! and i really appreciate how much it got me to write, i haven't written this much in a long time :) thanks to everyone who helped coordinate it, and everyone on tumblr reblogging/enjoying what everyone's made! thanks to everyone who has followed my fics through the month or even just read one or left comments and kudos: it really means a lot!   
> i hope to participate again next year! :)


End file.
